


1am

by spicylarrie



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), im so sorry, pre-serum steve, very soft boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicylarrie/pseuds/spicylarrie
Summary: ”It was random and silly and barely 1 o’clock in the morning, but they found themselves dancing in the darkened living room to no music and a whole lot of laughter.”





	1am

**Author's Note:**

> ok hi I’ve never written stevebucky before so excuse me if my characterization is off pls enjoy xx

_”It was random and silly and barely 1 o’clock in the morning, but they found themselves dancing in the darkened living room to no music and a whole lot of laughter.”_

**Brooklyn, 1934**

The freezing rain smacked against the cobblestone road fiercely, a slim Steve Rogers racing towards his destination with desperation; the sooner he was out of the harsh rain and into fresh clothes the better.

He paced up the metal stairs steadily and knocked once on his best friend’s door before opening it right up and rushing inside as if he hadn’t felt heat in his bones in months.

“Woah woah woah, slow down soldier! I could’ve been doing anything in here!” Bucky’s familiar voice called out from his bedroom. Steve laughed and walked towards the sound, responding just as easily.

“Wouldn’t be anything I’ve never seen before, Buck,” Steve joked, greeting his best friend with a toothy grin before rooting through his chest of drawers and pulling out a soft t-shirt. “In case you hadn’t noticed I’m freezing and my clothes are soaked; a little concern wouldn’t hurt, eh?”

“Well I’m not the punk who ran all the way over here, am I?” Bucky appeared behind Steve’s small frame, handing him a towel and a pair of cotton pants along with some clean socks. “Go get cleaned up, I’ll heat up some soup.” Bucky disappeared into the kitchen while waiting for Steve to change.

“You‘re lucky I wasn’t out tonight!” Steve heard Bucky call out from the kitchen while he pulled off his soggy socks one by one.

“Oh yeah? And where would you be without your trusty wingman? We both know I’m the reason the women are lining up to dance with you,” Steve responded, finally pulling on the warm shirt. He could already feel heat returning to his bones as he dropped his wet clothes into a laundry basket, wincing at the slap of soggy clothing at the bottom. Bucky’s eyebrows were furrowed as Steve entered the kitchen.

“You know I don’t bring you out as a ‘wingman’, right?” Bucky asked quietly, pouring hot soup from a saucepan into a bowl. “I wouldn’t have half the fun I do without you by my side,” He finished by looking up at Steve’s small frame in the doorway. He only looked smaller while drowned in one of Bucky’s larger t-shirts. 

“Hey, of course I know that,” Steve scoffed, walking over and meeting Bucky’s arm with a light smack. “Besides, none of your dames have ever gotten a freshly heated bowl of soup from the man himself, have they?” He added matter-of-factly. 

Steve looked up and found Bucky smiling fondly down at him. He returned an honest smile before picking his soup up with a dishcloth underneath and padding towards the living room softly. 

He slurped quietly from the spoon as Bucky fiddled with some records in the corner, struggling to remove them from their sleeves before giving up; all while Steve watched fondly from his perch on the armchair. 

“Ah screw it, the stupid things are useless anyway,” Bucky scoffed, piling all of the cases back on top of the record player. “Why would we need records when we’ve got radio?” He asks nobody, switching on the radio and hearing nothing but static. Steve shook his head, laughing at Bucky’s dismay.

“We don’t have to listen to anything Buck, not when we’ve got each other to listen to,” He noted, placing his (now empty) bowl down on the wooden coffee table. “I know you’ve got the voice of an angel in there somewhere.” He joked. Bucky arched an eyebrow, placing one arm on his hip as if to challenge Steve’s words.

“Is that so? You’ve known me all this time and I’ve never shown you all of my talent?” Bucky jokes, watching as Steve shrugs his shoulder. He takes this as a challenge and hops up on the table, starting to crow out a Bing Crosby song from the radio rather dramatically.

_“Did you ever see a dream walking? Well I did,”_ He bellowed, Steve cackling on the couch with glee. He hopped up and joined in the next line.

_”Did you ever hear a dream talking? Well I did,”_ They sang in unison. It was random and silly and barely one o’clock in the morning, but they found themselves dancing in the darkened living room with no music and a whole lot of laughter.

 

**New York, 2018**

Steve was unsure his eyes could produce any more tears after the past couple of days. He felt as though he’d only gotten his best friend back when he was separated from him for the second time. 

All he hears in his head are his favourite memories from their past and the last nervous _”Steve?”_ that slipped from Bucky’s lips before he disappeared, nothing but a pile of ash at his feet.

This memory of them both dancing to nothing but their own horrid singing in Bucky’s living room has Steve wishing for nothing more than to go back; screw everything, all be wanted was to be back with Bucky, two carefree teenagers in Brooklyn.

Now his throat feels heavy as he closes his eyes and envisions his best friend standing back on the old coffee table, crinkles by his eyes with laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry


End file.
